Aishiteru, PS I Love You
by laurices
Summary: A letter given to him on his way to High School and a music sheet delivered to him on his way to College were the last and the only clues of his love for him. Silver Pair.
1. Aishiteru

It's me again!

Another ficcie…but this time I'll try another pairing…the Silver Pair…

I'm so…intrigued(?) by them, especially Choutarou ('coz he's so CUTE! WAAAAAAAHHH (fangirl mode))

But seriously…this one will be different…read and find out…

BTW, I know from sources that Shishido is in his last year. Last year of what? Junior high? Like that of the 3rd years in Seigaku? Please answer so that I can edit this…

Here goes…

PoT and the letter aren't mine…

* * *

**AISHITERU**

* * *

"Shishido-_san_…th-this is for you…"

Choutarou, his hands trembling (and inwardly and, unconsciously, outwardly blushing), gave his senpai, just recently a graduate from junior high, a piece of folded paper in his hands. Choutarou made himself the trouble of attending his _senpai_'s commencement rites.

"Th-that w-would b-be all, Sh-shishido-s-an…Anyways, c-congratulations on your grad-duation. I-I hope for your h-happiness in high school, Sh-shis-sido-s-_san_-n," Choutarou said, trembling, looking like on the verge of tears, before turning and walking away towards his home. Shishido thought that he heard a sniffling sound and, in the distance, he thought he saw Choutarou bringing his hand up to the level of his eyes, but that seemed to be his imagination…or so he thought…

When he reached his home, after his parents celebrated his graduation from junior high, without a single thought or ado, he said that he would like to rest.

When he got to his room (after locking the door), he undressed his dress clothes and put on his usual wear. He remembered that Choutarou gave him something when the rites were finished. He remembered that he stuffed it inside his pants pocket. He retrieved it, then, as he went to his bedside desk, he turned off the lights, turned on the lampstand on it, then examined what his _kouhai_ had given him.

He observed the object: it was just an ordinary piece of ordinary bond paper, folded in the styles of letters mailed to the receiver. When he unfolded it, out came a multitude of scribbled yet neat lines, all in Choutarou's distinctive neat penmanship, all written in the usual black ink Choutarou uses in writing everyday trivial things. After examining all the observable details in the paper, he began to read his _kouhai_'s message.

* * *

_How are you, _senpai_? I hope you're in good condition…even though I know you're always in good condition. Me? Here, doing nothing of interest, always looking into nothingness, looking into the distance, always thinking of what would happen next…_

_Aren't the events great? It just seemed like yesterday when I first met you when I was drafted as a regular on the tennis team, moreover when we officially became a doubles pair, and all that seemed like something as great news to me…that is, until the news of your forthcoming graduation from junior high came…If ever that happens, and in two days it will happen, I will be the loneliest person, if not in the whole world…and that is because of you, _senpai_…_

_When I first saw you, one month after junior high started, something inside of me sparked. I felt something more, more than the exhilarating feeling I felt when winning practices and matches with you. I felt my whole body warming up–from head to toe–whenever I see your eyes, your eyes full of determination and of confidence and yet with caring for me as your _kouhai_. It feels as if looking at you makes my heart flutter, my heart skipping a beat, firing up that inner feeling of you. I felt that I was falling, falling in love with you, falling HOPELESSLY in love with you, the whole of you…_

_Ever since we became a doubles pair, along with Oshitari-_senpai_ and Mukahi-_senpai_, that feeling for you intensified, even when we were practicing each other, that feeling for you intensifies. Even though when you observed that I seem to be concentrating on my serves and stances, deep inside, I hide that feeling for you._

_My earnest wish for you is for you to be always happy in your life, I wish for your good health and long life, I wish for your academic success in your upcoming high school life, I wish for a person who is worthy for you; a person who can always make you happy and will be your lifetime partner till the end, I wish for you to forget my presence and the whole of me on you when the rites happen, yet, I wish that the _senpai_ that I first met be always the _senpai_ that I have and had always known._

_Before I finish this letter, there is something that I have wanted to say these past few months, but due to limited time, due to the fear of rejection, and due to the pain of separation forever, have reduced my message to you to writing: _AISHITERU_, SHISHIDO-_SAN_. I have liked you and I have loved you when I first met and saw you, I loved you with my whole heart, I loved you more than my relatives and loved ones, I loved you more than my life, I loved you. But here only in this letter can I say this to you, because ever since it was written and it was dictated in Heaven, in Earth, and in our Fates that we are never to be, and never will be, for each other. For my love for you was, is, and will be an illusion; my love for you was, is, and will be forbidden._

_Do you remember those moments and those times when you catch me looking at you; those times when I was looking at your stature, your face full of confidence and determination yet also full of caring, your smiles which you reserve only to and for me, and your sparkling yet confident eyes? _Hontou ni gomenasai. _Forgive me for always looking at you…because only once in my life do I encounter and meet a person and a friend such as you…_

_Farewell to you, farewell to all of my memories of you, farewell to all of your smiles, farewell to the love that is forbidden and an illusion, farewell to all of you…_

-0-

…Sayonara…

* * *

After reading his _kouhai_'s letter, he didn't notice that while he was reading, he felt that his eyes were suddenly beginning to moisten, something near his eyes contracting, something wet gashing and streaking across his cheek, and something in his heart making that effect as if he had been…hurt…

His _kouhai_ had confessed of his "illusional and forbidden" love to him; he didn't know that his _kouhai_, his doubles-partner and teammate, his closest friend, confessing to him in which he viewed the event too late to mention out.

'That was why he was trembling like that a while ago. And I think when he left, he really did cry. But I didn't know that he felt…t-this…feeling for me…' Shishido spoke in his mind.

As he readied himself for sleep, he turned off the lamp and he left the letter half closed, half opened, yet, even when he tried to sleep, the contents of the letter and Choutarou's invisible tears seemed to plague him of his incontrovertible fault…

_AISHITERU_…he thought of that small yet powerful word…_AISHITERU_…Never did it occur to him that his _kouhai_ had already fallen in love with him, even as they were practicing with each other, even when they were with each other…that was why he always (or sometimes) catches sight of Choutarou looking at him…

Yet, unknowingly, when he thought all of this out, he realized that when they held the graduation rites, he also realized that this was the last day wherein they would see each other again…the very thought of him made him realize that for the past 11 months they were together, he only realized it now, now that for the last time Choutarou had talked to him, that he truly felt _something_ for his _kouhai_. Yet, as Choutarou had mentioned, it was already too late for the both of them.

* * *

How was it, then?

I know it's kind of sad, but the idea of unrequited love between Choutarou and Shishido has been buzzing on my mind for a while…

BTW, I might add another chapter here even though the status is complete…kind of a follow-up…

If you're gonna ask me about that letter, well, I'm not going to give any details about that…

Reviews pls…


	2. PS I Love You

Acha…here's the follow-up…

OK…here goes…

UPDATE:  
06-04-'10: Finally! After more than 2 years, I've got this fic going and on board again!

Lately, I've been reduced to a teary emotional wreck after reading at least 10 fanfics (at least 9 yaoi, 1 SoEul-mates inspired) from (with special mentions to 박아유-씨 & junjun…thanks for making me believe that true love is not that impossible at all…at least, to people like me…). That inspired me to at least revive this old thing, laid dormant for more than 2 years…

Oh, and I've downloaded a song which I've been yearning to download more than 2 years ago (also). But I tried, of course, 2 years ago, but all I get is an effing bad recording from a variety show. So…emotion-wrecking fanfics + song = inspiration (but not fully; I'm still bombarded with persistent problems as yet to be solved…)

07-31-'10 going through the whole months of August & September, going on through the end of December: Continued with this thing, after finishing much much earlier the next part…

OK, I've yapped too long…

PoT and the song not mine…

* * *

**P.S. I LOVE YOU**

**

* * *

**

"Son, there's mail for you! And it looks like it's addressed to you…!" a concerned mother's voice sounded out in the hallway, clearly and loudly.

"Coming, _okaa_-_san_!" came the reply of the son, a brown-gray haired teenager, matured as those like the ones who are nearing the entrance to a University. The son was currently listening to a rather moving piano sonata from his MP3 player, fiddling for the umpteenth time a tassel hanging from his cabinet; and even though his room is locked from within, he heard his mother's command as if he was standing next to her.

As he heard his mother ring out, he left whatever he was doing behind as he came out of his room to see who on earth had mailed him at this time, hours before his graduation from High School.

"_Ne_, Shishido, from who do you think this came from?" asked his mother, looking at the rather neatly folded long envelope. The boy named Shishido replied, in a rather sarcastic fashion, "I don't know. You know I'm not that type of person who writes letters to anyone and proceeds with the snail-type fashion. Seriously, what's the use of having e-mail and cellphones in the first place, then?"

The mother, sensing the sarcasm (but knowingly absorbing the common sense behind it), "I'm so sorry I disturbed you. You may go back now to your room, dear. So sorry to disturb you too soon," and soon handed the envelope to the son's outstretched hand.

As his mother was heading out (no doubt to finish last-minute preparations for the party, and before her upcoming drive and appointment to the hair-dresser, no doubt to try the most elegant and costly coiffure perm for the occasion, the son drily thought), he looked at the envelope, and headed towards his room and locked the door, feeling a rather weird but familiar sense of déjà vu.

Motioning towards his study area, he sat down on the mattress spread on the floor and placed his hands on the low table in front of him, placing the envelope on the wooden surface [1]. He looked at it, deep in thought, feeling the rather reverberating sense of something unexpected in his chest, thinking, 'Why am I feeling this emotion again? I thought I had forgotten this…feeling, when I had last seen Choutarou almost 4 years ago. It's in the past…but why am I feeling this again?'

He had returned his thoughts again on the envelope, with no written signs of any address or addressee (or to whom it may be addressed to; it was too late when he had realized how it came to be addressed to him). Flipping it, he saw (for the first time) scrawled in a unique calligraphic style, the _kanji_ **書歌** "sho…ka…Letter…Song…'Letter of a Song'? 'Letter and a Song'?" Even upon seeing the calligraphy, he had felt a familiar feeling of a smiling silver-haired boy showing a dark-haired brunette his inky attempts at calligraphy back then, ink-splattered nose and cheek, smiling toothily, laughing…NOOO!

Shishido hadn't noticed that while gazing into both space and ink forms, he had let his thoughts slip into the happy memories of the past. "Why am I thinking about Choutarou out of a sudden? No, no, this can't happen again…!" he had both thought and spoken aloud. Feeling suddenly wary that someone might see him in a state of what others call "crazy", he opened rather suddenly the envelope and from within pulled a neatly folded long letter.

He observed it, feeling yet again that sense of falling into the unfathomable depths of darkness never to rise again from it: neatly unfolded, out came a very long letter written in the "old style" [2], as the "modernists" had termed it. Even as he had scanned it in one long go, Choutarou yet again returned in his mind, as had his previous letter, from the words gracefully (yet, surprisingly, neatly) written [3]. He had barely (and scarcely) read the _kanji_ of his name, and yet, when he had reached and read the large inked kanji at the middle of the left, **長太郞**, he had nearly all but cried…yet sighing, "I-it was y-you, all along…"

Reading yet rapidly, one would observe that he had gone back and forth the letter [4], seemingly trying to comprehend everything, with each word equivalent to an ache on his beating heart…

* * *

_Shishido-_san_…_

_By the time you are currently reading this letter, I may be gone from this present life and world. But do not yet fret over what I had written; please…do read first why I had to undertake such a like-changing risk as to depart from this world and life…_

…_this cruel world and painful life which had deprived me of the happiness that should have been mine, and of the love which should have been on my heart the moment I was born…_

-0-

_4 years ago, when I had given you my confessions of undying, true, and eternal love, I thought that it would be the last of the times that I would be seeing you. But missing you for even a day had made my heart and soul ever more pained and scarred than it was before, and even though I had promised to myself that I would not go searching for you, just even the mere trace of your shadow against the evening lamplight, it seems as though my entire body would not respect what the mind had dictated; as if my heart had overpowered me. And so had started my silent gazing at you from behind, even though may it be termed as stalking on another's cruel jibe._

_But then, forgive me, for my next statement…_

…_your mother had intervened._

_To feign innocence on my part had I been discovered, I had sent a few enough letters, e-mails, & even random messages towards you, but had found it strange that not even an ounce of your reply had reached me…_

_She confronted me one day, and it seemed that she had the knowledge (more than what had initially required, through by which means of acquisition I will never come to know) of my secret and unrequited love to you. She even laughed, a bit cruelly, upon my face, many random strangers witness to my gradual degradation, when she asked me about it (and had never replied in shame), mentioning that the love I had held for you for so long was such an entire waste; on why I had that kind of REPULSIVE and DISGUSTING kind of love; the kind of love that was bound to be cursed by Heaven…the love she will never tolerate and which will never afflict her son…_

…_if only you knew what it was like, to be confronted with the truth as it were like a million knives, dipped in the unforgiving venom of reality, stabbing repeatedly within my person, absorbing it as if by force feeding…_

_She further added, with a bit more force than required, that I entirely give up, since you were to be engaged & betrothed as soon as you had entered your last year of graduation, followed by your marriage ceremony a week after your graduation ceremony. With that last bit of information, my knees had buckled way, forcing me to kneel down, while your mother left with a contemptuous smirk on her face (which I had never seen, for I had fixed my gaze below as my tears dictated what sanity had been left inside me), saying that perhaps I should take myself to Hell, since that would be my destination anyways as a result of my "sin"._

_Would you ever believe me, if it meant nothing to me what I had to go through, a torturous life made even more unbearable with your eventual and life-long engagement to another, you would have seen me smile? Would you believe me, then, if you had seen me, an unfaltering expression wishing for your long life and eventual happiness while bearing upon my shoulders the pain of reality that my love for you, fantastical may it be though it be genuine and unyielding, would be crushed to pieces by reality?_

_Long ago, I knew then that to love you was__ hopeless in the first place, and even though I hid my feelings for you…but still, I had loved you…no more, no less…not wishing for anything in return; just the thought of loving you even but for a distance, loving you with but your voice only upon my ears, was more than enough for me…_

_As much as I had loved you, I had no choice; reality is a hard thing to battle, and even though that hope, however small, is the dream of a man awake, it is still not wise to even then dwell in dreams, more so in those that will not come true to fruition. Yet, as the advice of my only confidante, it is hard to let go of one that I had held on for so long…_

_I hope that with your upcoming engagement, betrothal, and eventually your marriage, __I hope for your eventual happiness…I hope for your good health, long life, and eventual prosperity…I wish that everything that is desired in this earthly life be yours to contentment…_

-0-

_Sorry, I had yapped too long, hadn't I?_

_As I finish and close this letter, feel free to feel around in this letter…_

…_as I place the last of the notes to place in my un-ending song of eternal love to you…_

_Forgive me for being such a coward, _hontou ni gomenasai_; the person that you would never had imagined despite knowing me for 3 years…_

…_then, your mother's suggestion…was, after all, a bittersweet price to pay…_

_I had gone from you for your happiness, while I…_

…_what to others seemingly as painful is nothing as compared for your happiness._

_I had arranged for the postman to deliver this on your graduation in High School, and had secured his promise not to open this until the intended time had arrived…and I think I may have convinced more than enough, though…_

-0-

_They say, that when you value the happiness of the one that you care and love, as a priority over and above your own, they say…that that is true love; with that person's happiness, it is equivalent to your happiness also; it is more than enough…_

-0-

Eien ni sayonara

Eien ni aishiteru

* * *

After reading the letter, he had all but given up on composing himself…and had not his mother left the house for her beautification, she would have already noticed that he was crying uncontrollably (with the letter, in all its thinness of its material, already soaked to the core with splashes of tears), not even checking himself that had already laid down on cold stone floor…that he was crying audibly, with moans & gasps in between each outburst.

Why did he never feel it, then? That while studying very hard, for even the thought that maybe Choutarou would pop out, that he had already been under the sensation of warmth & comfort of that boy…no, guy…even from afar…

Reading that letter had made him feel that he's already too late to do anything…and with good reason; he had heard once of a silent news of a student's suicide, and the description that he was a tennis player in middle school, had somehow jarred his nerves, even for a while…he would never had thought, for even a while, that it would be Choutarou, the person he had but had loved…if only time & chance were his allies…

His mother…never for once had he suspected her, though he had been slightly suspicious when she became to over-protective and had insisted on his schedules…it was as if with the disappearance of that strange affection from afar had come with the dread of a vice-like grip, invisible may it be, around his soul…

Anger & sadness & pain battling & churning inside of him, he had never noticed that the envelope that had held his love's last message, had given him still another message. And if it wasn't for a dull clunk and a fluttering of 5 sheets of paper, he would have confined himself to the room, never for a moment to then breathe another time…

…but as fate would have it, nothing was ever as kind as to be given some pity, to be dashed again to the pain that was reality, however kind in thought that truth was to be presented. Shishido then noticed a (seemingly) blank CD and, after viewing closely, a neatly penned down score sheet with the title in both English & Japanese. Feeling yet an ominous emotion (and yet, if another eye was opened, a comforting presence nearby), he saw a short note attached to the score sheet.

* * *

_I had composed this as I was the battling the most difficult struggle in my life._

-0-

_If it was to choose my useless love for the person I had cared betrothed to another…_

…_or simply death so that the person I love will be eternally happy even to my dis-apparition._

_Shishido Ryou, I dedicate this my eternal affection to you, in that even though I'm gone, the happiness that you own, which I treasure, will forever be contained within yours. My happiness is but nothing compared to yours, and your being happy, is contentment enough for me…_

_Ohtori Choutarou_

_

* * *

_

Feeling as though no more tears had been left for him to weep for more, he then reached for the DVD player placed above the TV set he had acquired just after his 1st year in High School. He placed the CD inside the tray and, waiting for it to play, then turned his attention towards the then neglected score sheet beside him.

As his eyes roved toward the title, the CD began to play: a simple piano melody timed to perfection. Realizing that the intro had already begun to fade towards the main melody, he then roved his eyes towards the first staff, towards the first notes with lyrics [5] labeled with such love it had hurt…

* * *

_Even if anything is done to me,_

_Because I love you, I'll face patience._

_Even if you hurt me, I won't care about it._

_These tears of mine, please take no notice of it…_

-0-

_They say that love is a heavy cross to bear._

_To break away from you is what they all advice._

_That I cannot do; I love you with all my heart._

_P.S. I love you: isn't that enough for you?_

-0-

Chorus:

_P.S. I love you very much._

_P.S. _Aishiteru_, no one else._

…

_And please do not worry,_

_I won't be taken by what they say about us, my dear…_

-0-

_If it happens that you love someone else_

_Whom you deem as worthier than me,_

_Whenever my heart is questioned,_

_P.S. I love you, 'til death do us apart…_

-0-

(Repeat Chorus)

-0-

Coda:

_If it happens that you love someone else_

_Whom you deem is worthier than me,_

_Whenever my heart is questioned,_

_P.S. I love you, 'til death do us apart…_

-0-

_Until death do us apart…_

…

_P.S.…_Aishiteru_…_

_

* * *

_

Reality nothing more than a blur, he then wailed as if on a funeral…forgetting everything…forgetting his success in education…none of that mattered now…as the last notes of the music blurred & faded into nothingness…

Choutarou had sacrificed everything, while he…had everything…but the love of that one person who would (have) made him smile (again)…death had done them apart…

…as hurried steps hastened, (seemingly) concerned, maybe, just maybe…

…death will bring them together again…

* * *

Whew…! Finished at last…

New Year just a few hours to go…

I hope for prosperity for everyone…and also, comment s from my fic; I missed composing fics entirely when boredom attacks so often it would have appeared I had ennui…

Reviews & comments, please! Pretty please… =)

Notes:

[1] This is a simplified version of what a Korean literati/nobleman's study looks like. Visualize this: a folding screen (屛風 병풍 _byeongpung_; 屏風 _byōbu_ in Japan) on the wall behind you, sitting cross-legged on a long mattress/bed-spread-like object with 3 cushions (1 shaped like a crown at your back, 1 cube-shaped at your left, & 1 rectangular prism-shaped at your right) at your back, and an elegant low wooden table at your front with distinct style of cabinets at the table. A candle-stand with a distinctly shaped (variously from a butterfly to a simple circle) shade on its side stands on the table's right.

[2] "Old style" meant writing in the traditional Chinese way: from top to bottom, progressing from the right to the left.

[3] See my previous description of Choutarou's penmanship in the previous chapter. Thank you.

[4] All my invention, though it took me an unbelievable around an hour or 2 to finish it, and nearly 3-4 months to conceptualize its contents. Two of its contents are by Aristoteles & by Dumbledore; do search for it (if you can; wittiness is what I want to achieve overall in my fics, even though my genre be tragedy & romance)

[5] The lyrics are merely translated, and edited with a bit of my inventive touch. If you want to search for them, the clue is already in this chapter.


	3. Epilogue

This last part will be short and simple.

Inspired by the 2006 drama "Hwang Jin-i", which by the way, with PoT, aren't mine.

(But I wish the hanbok from the drama was mine… :D)

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

* * *

The cloudy yet bright azure sky dominated the heavens. Over the west, in the distance, a wide river between numerous mist-encrusted verdant mountains can be seen. While lush verdant flora dominated the surroundings, all of it stops abruptly in the middle at the earthy edged-height of a deep large lake in the midst of the vast field of green life.

The lake is fed by a system of small yet high waterfalls cascading from stony cliffs in the distance, overshadowed by the various heights of trees every now and then rustling in the wind. And in the middle of all the verdant heights, in one of the cliffs, stood a lone tree of apricot rose blossoms [1], every now and then sending its pinkish blossoms into the cascade, its end floating down the lake.

From a single stone-pillared wooden bridge (painted red and green) stretching across the vast width of the waters (with scattered patches of lotus flowers among the lily pads), it leads into a single earthy island in the midst of water. In the middle of the island is erected a wooden hexagonal pavilion, balconied all around, with upturned eaves and a graceful wooden bracket system holding up a leaden roof. Color graced the pavilion, even though restrained into only the shades of red, green (majority, especially on the brackets), & white (with a little black) serving only as decoration. Chrysanthemums of every color, apricot blossoms, & cherry blossoms, and their bushes, dominated the beautiful landscape of the island. This was topped by a tall wooden signboard hanging from the pavilion with gracefully-written _kanji_ **永香亭** [2].

This, and all that, filled the area with a lush sound of rushing water and an ambrosial scent of both blossoms and water wafting around, and a sense of coolness in the midst of brightness. An ethereal sheen surrounded the whole area, adding to the (mysterious) tone of happiness to all who might even envision this paradise.

In the midst of this lovely (yet ironically lonely) scene was a lone tall short waved silver-haired figure, dressed in white with a silky tinge of blue, sitting on the low stepped-entrance of the pavilion, seemingly waiting for someone. Adding to the yet sad aura, heart-rending & moving melodies were being drawn from a small Stradivarius violin, completed by a gaze at his handsome face with its copper brown eyes betraying the sadness he currently feels. While still drawing sad tunes, he had thought, 'Until when will you arrive, my love…?'

Not until a few moments later did something happen.

* * *

Both were mourned as the former was, similarly, 4 years ago. When, in their short happy lives, they were inseparable as if Love destined them together, now, even in death, they were to be together…

…even as they were tried by separation once…

* * *

A lone cropped dark-haired brunette, clad in blue with a silky sheen, wandered along the grassy verdant plain, walking as if finding someone. His dark violet eyes spoke of determination, yet with mirth, at his yearning for reunion with someone…his someone…

Reaching near the azure lake, he at once heard faint melodic yet poignant sounds emanating somewhere within the lake. Nearing the lake's edge, the music's volume intensified (despite the sounds of water in the distance), prompting the male to wonder, 'This music…so sad, yet so wonderful…it's so familiar…where had I last heard it? And…who's making it?'

Now determined to find the melody's maker, he at once sought to find out how to reach at the lake itself. Anything, he thought, just to find who's making it.

(If one might listen to the music, for others, it's entrancing; for him, addictive would rightly fit in.)

When he caught sight of the wooden bridge, his heart got glad. As he walked along the bridge's length, his footsteps against wood echoing in the distance, the waters below him variously rushing and rippling and tinkling all in unison, various flower petals being caught by a now blowing wind, a multitude of fragrances wafting towards him…all seemed at peace with everything.

Sighting the island as he neared it, as if by chance, a lone blossom of apricot rose wafted towards his direction. Shortly stopping, and catching it by his hand, he observed the flower: a late bloomer [4], yet with a fragrance so intoxicating, it filled him. And as he finished inhaling the heavenly ambrosia, the music abruptly ended, as if caught at the middle.

* * *

While still playing the violin, he had heard that the wind had started to blow, and opening his eyes, he caught sight of a wondrous scene: the various flowers (and their petals) surrounding the pavilion had blown themselves off at their stalks. As if by chance also, the various fragrances had then now begun to waft in the air, sending their scents around.

And as if by chance also, a blossom of the apricot rose fell on top of his lap. As he saw the blossom, not wanting it to be wafted away again and fall in the waters below, he abruptly stopped. Placing the violin near him, he bent a little to hold the wondrous flower in his hands, to inhale its heavenly scent, and as he rose, he sighted a blue figure on the bridge.

* * *

Frowning a little at the cessation of music, he resumed walking towards the pavilion, still holding on to the apricot rose. As he neared the bridge's end and to the earthy path, he sighted a tall figure in white near a wooden pavilion.

* * *

Standing at the approach of a stranger (whoever "he" or "she" might be), a familiar feeling entered him, and holding on the apricot rose, he walked towards him or her, and as he approached, a mere 10 meters away, he abruptly stopped, shock and loneliness and happiness all at the same time entering towards him, sighting the form in blue with a hair of cropped dark brown and with dark violet eyes.

* * *

Stepping off the bridge and into the earthy path, he had walked a little into the island and towards the pavilion, when he sighted the approaching figure in white with a mop of silver hair in short waves, and with copper brown eyes. He stopped, with an enormous flood of emotions entering him, his eyes widening at the sight.

* * *

Their large portraits now stood paired beside each other, he at the left smiling good-naturedly (with a subtle hint of sadness), with his bright copper brown orbs and slightly messy short-waved silver hair, he at the right scowling (but with a mixture of happiness) matched by his dark brown hair and dark violet eyes. Both were tied opposite diagonally by a pair of black ribbons, thinly edged in powder blue, at the portraits' tops.

While a small tray with embedded smoking incense sticks stood at the front, nearly overshadowing a small black wooden cross standing in front, between the portraits, white chrysanthemums were piled high at the back (even wrapped around the portrait's edges), their fragrances thickly opposing with the mood of intense mourning in front of them; the warmth & enthusiasm of grieving slowly being overpowered with the harsh & unforgiving cold of the winter winds.

* * *

Both stopped at each others' approaches, and, recognizing each other, still holding on to their blossoms, both ran and hugged each other, the other one starting to cry in sadness and the other one soothing and patting the back. None had noticed that they had dropped their apricot roses, both forgotten in their twin shocks.

"Shishido-_san_, don't you know how long I had waited for you? Why did you only come now?" the tall one said, in the midst of his sobs, now knelt on the ground due to his anguish. The other one, Shishido, reassured the other, with gentle pats on the other's back, saying, "Don't worry Choutarou. Stop crying…From now on, both of us will never be separated from each other ever again. I'm here now, for you…only for you…" he soothingly said.

The one called Choutarou, sniffing, said, "Really, Shishido-_san_?" "Yes," he replied, "and from now on, call me Ryou, as I had been the loving beam of light of your heart." "And as I had been the only knight of your defeat, together, no one will ever separate us." And at that, both hugged each other, as they had not since they had been separated as if by eternity.

Their apricot roses, laid down on the earth, were now presented in each others' hands, never to part from each other.

* * *

As both sat in their pavilion of ever-lasting fragrance, amidst the golden rose-arrayed saffron sky around them, with the last of the rays slowly being enshrouded by the shadowed mountains in the distance, under the canopied comfort of each others' embrace, Shishido embracing Choutarou as he laid his bottom half on the smooth wood, both holding on to their fragrant apricot roses, both were singing their song, Choutarou humming, Shishido's vocals perfectly pairing with the melody.

The eastern wind seemed to favor the pair, as it lazily drifted westward (within & between the wooden columns), with only a few petals and leaves, away into the vast river onto the horizon, reflecting the setting skies, seemingly to vanish…

…

_If it happens that you love someone else_

_Whom you deem is worthier than me,_

_Whenever my heart is questioned,_

_P.S. I love you, 'til death do us apart_

…

* * *

Their ashes, formerly separated, one earlier within a simple ceramic-glaze container in the shape of a green bamboo, were now combined in a powder-blue ceramic urn, and engraved on one side (in classical _kanji_):

_As a ray of silver light flashes amidst the snow-filled sky, so as love will never part amidst differences and similarities._

As cold & near deathly-icy as the urn it be, engraved at the opposite side, hued in rosy pinkish yellow, exuding a seemingly unusual warmth (which none can feel), a strange flower only recognized by those experienced in the highest form of love and has envisioned this bloom within themselves: a pair of apricot blossoms etched in silver.

* * *

I broke my promise: 4 pages in 3 days!

XD

I hope this one touches your hearts (as it did to me, and how many tears it had cost me)…

So how was it? Oh, suggestion: I hope you read this while listening to moody violin (or any of its bow-stringy relatives) instrumental music (I did it with 8 tracks with 1 sad song, and boy, read my above statement! XD)

You know what to do…

Oh, and expect another…

(Last: I was supposed to upload this as soon as I finished this, but a delay of 3 days (with the final finishing touches included in the gap) is making me crazy, since this will be the last of my free days before I get back to the final 10 tortuous months of College…I hope the job that I want will be within my reach…and that won't be related to my course…)

* * *

Notes:

[1] In my philosophy, apricot rose blossoms signify the Flower of Death & of Heaven, and the Flower of Eternal Happiness (in the afterlife).

[2] "Pavilion of Eternal Fragrance".

[3] For those who want a view of this paradise, it was inspired wholly by the wondrous and breath-taking scenes of "Hwang Jin-i". Here are some pics (please close the spaces…and if the pics are gone, forgive me for that, they're like since September or November 2008) so that you may at least visualize it…

a) http: / / img134 . imageshack . us / img134 / 3845 / 15ur4 . jpg

b) http: / / img220 . imageshack . us / img220 / 2284 / 79ob6 . jpg

c) http: / / img204 . imageshack . us / img204 / 6292 / 83mp4 . jpg

d) http: / / img212 . imageshack . us / img212 / 797 / h05h190ou9 . jpg

e) http: / / img134 . imageshack . us / img134 / 8616 / h020023sa8 . jpg

f) forgot the link, but it has a background of a waterfall

g) no link (since edited from the drama's 2nd official website), but it has a melodramatic sight…

[4] "Late bloomer" pertains to a flower which has, well, bloomed quite late. For those who can remember the Disney movie "Mulan", Fa Zhou (Mulan's father) pointed out a lone magnolia blossom whose petals are still closed (while the others had already blossomed), and noted out, "Look! This one is late…and I bet, when it blooms, it will be the most beautiful of all…!" To end, in that same garden, when all the blossoms (fully opened) are falling out, one mature magnolia blossom fell.


End file.
